


Resident Evil Kink Bingo

by SumiArana



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: BDSM, Cheating, Coersion, D/s, F/M, Gen, Interrogation, M/M, Multi, Other, Restraints, Rough Sex, blowjob, face fucking, kink bingo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2019-06-05 10:15:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15168497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SumiArana/pseuds/SumiArana
Summary: A collection of one shots of varying lengths and varying pairings. All pairings will be listed, all warnings listed at the beginning of each chapter. PWP





	1. drugs/aphrodisiacs

**Author's Note:**

> Resi kink bingo! Starting off with WeskerxClaire, and then next idk what my story will be but I'll figure it out! 
> 
> Warnings: non-con, drugging, begging, straight, pwp
> 
> Set pre RE1/RE2

 

Claire's heart was racing as her hand hovered over Albert Wesker's belt. The smooth silver buckle shined even in the dim lighting of the S.T.A.R.S office. The voice in the back of her head told her to stop – blowing her brother's boss in his office wasn't okay – but the heat between her thighs told her to stay.

Wesker tucked a finger underneath Claire's jaw and she shuddered lightly.

“Well? Don't keep me waiting, dearheart.” The older man purred.

Claire's heart fluttered in her chest. There was something about that voice that wiped every doubt out of her mind. Her fingers went to undo his belt, making quick work of the button on his perfectly ironed slacks to reveal the black boxer briefs underneath. His cock was hard already, perfectly outlined in the jersey knit of his boxers. Claire brushed the back of her fingers against it timidly, eliciting a soft sigh from the older man. She wet her lips, dipping her fingers inside his underwear and freeing his cock from it's cotton prison.

She nuzzled against him lightly, wrapping her hand around the base. He was hard, thick and hot, and she loved the way he felt against her skin.

“Good girl.” Wesker's gloved hand curled into her hair lightly. “Worship me.”

A soft groan escaped from Claire's throat as she rubbed her nose against Wesker's sensitive flesh in response as her hand squeezed rhythmically. She knew in the back of her head the longer that they were holed up in the office, the more likely her brother would be looking for her when they returned. She would need a good excuse, but the heat throbbing between her legs made it hard to keep that train of thought.

“Y-yes, sir.” Claire was almost surprised to hear her voice shudder. She always considered herself such a strong, independent woman – but here, on her knees in front of her brother's boss, she was quivering.

“You may address me as Captain.” He twisted his hand into her hair further, pulling her head back lightly. “And you will do as I say.” He sneered. She swallowed hard and managed a nod in response. “Good girl.”

She whimpered again softly. “Please, Captain, can I just-” She leaned forward, tracing her tongue over the length of his shaft. She flattened it out, giving him a few broad licks from base to head before taking just the tip into her mouth. He groaned in approval, tightening his grip on her ponytail.

She twirled her tongue around the tip, flicking it against his perineum. She swallowed hard and drew more into her mouth. She could tell how much bigger he was than the boys back home once he was filling up her mouth, but she kind of loved it. Her hand dipped between her thighs, rubbing herself through her jeans. She was so wet she could feel it beginning to soak through the denim there.

Wesker rolled his hips, feeling his cock sink deeper into her throat. She gagged lightly, gripping his thigh and digging her nails in. He held her head still, enjoying the warmth of her mouth and the constriction of her throat around his cock. She didn't struggle, simply whimpered against him.

“Good girl. Use your throat.” He stroked her cheek lightly with his free hand, the leather soft against Claire's skin. She swallowed around his cock and Wesker groaned. “Are you going to be a good little fuck slut for me, Claire?”

She responded by taking more of his cock. She blinked away tears, feeling them run down her cheeks. She cursed silently, hoping that her mascara wasn't running too. He held her still as he fucked her throat, absolutely reveling the look in her eyes.

“Does your brother know what a naughty girl you are? How much you like sucking cock?”

She whimpered and shook her head. Chris had always been on the overprotective side when they were growing up, so she didn't get to start spending time with boys until college. She had her fair share of boyfriends, and one night stands, and once even a cute girl from her American lit class. Chris still thought she was a virgin.

He buried himself to the hilt, pleasantly surprised that Claire managed to take his entire length without too much coaxing. Her throat closed around him again, feeling the tip of his cock brush against the back of her throat. She struggled to swallow around him, tears running down her cheeks continually now. He finally drew away and she gasped, spluttering as a long strand of thick saliva formed between her mouth and his cock. Her face was hot and she was lightheaded from her restricted oxygen intake.

“Stand up.” He stroked his cock lightly. “Drop your pants, and present yourself to me.”

She shuddered and scrambled to stand, undoing her jeans and sliding them off of her hips. She let them fall to her ankles and hurriedly hooked her fingers into her panties to remove them as well. She pressed her hips against Wesker's desk.

“I would have never guessed you had such a ...healthy backside, Claire.” Wesker smirked, rubbing his hand over her curves. Her thighs were thick, and slick with her juices. She was aching for him and he loved every second of it. He delivered one sharp smack to her butt, watching it jiggle as she yelped.

“Please.”

“Please?” He smirked, brushing his fingers against her ready and willing opening. She shuddered and wiggled. “Please what?”

“I want... you, inside, please.” She whimpered, pressing back against him. He obliged, plunging one of his still gloved digits into her pussy. She groaned softly, parting her legs further for him. She was so hot she couldn't think straight. He added another finger, again slipping inside with ease.

“You really are a little fuck slut, aren't you, Claire?”

“Yes, Captain.” She whimpered, feeling his fingers filling her up. He twisted them and stroked her g-spot expertly, causing her legs to quiver. “Oh, fuck, ah~,” He fucked her with his fingers slowly at first, building speed until she was whining. He could tell she was on the edge. He brushed the pad of his thumb over her clit once before drawing away entirely.

“Oh, no, no, no, _please,_ ” She gasped, looking at him over her shoulder with wide eyes. “Please, Captain, please, don't stop...”

He smirked, pressing the head of his cock against her sex. “Is this what you want?”

“Please.” She whimpered, wiggling her hips against him.

“And why should I give it to you?”

“I want it.”

“Do you think that's enough of a reason, Claire?” Wesker sneered.

“Please, Captain. I want you to fuck me. _Please._ ”

He spanked her again, this time on the opposite cheek, before allowing the head to slip inside. She groaned, leaning her head against the wooden desk. “What do we say, dearheart?”

“T-thank you,” She whined. “Captain.”

“Good girl.” He steadied himself with a hand on her hips, fingers pressing into her hip bones. He buried himself inside of her, feeling her slick flesh yield with ease. He twisted his free hand into her hair, pulling her head back sharply. He kissed her hard, his tongue delving into her mouth and claiming it as his own. He wanted to claim every part of her as his. He wanted to violate every hole of his subordinate's younger sister, and he loved that she was begging for it.

Claire whimpered and whined with each small movement the older man made. It set her nerves on fire, sent waves of pleasure over her body with each thrust. She loved it, both the girth of his cock and the skill in his movement. He was far better in bed than the boys her age.

“Touch yourself for me,” He murmured into her ear. She did as she was told, her fingers immediately delving between her thighs and stroking her clit. Her legs shook with each thrust and soon she was on the edge again. “...don't cum until I tell you to.”

She whimpered softly but slowed her fingers. “Please.”

“Be a good girl.” He murmured, replacing her hand with his own and stroking her clit quickly. “Beg for it.”

“P-please, Captain, may I cum?” She whimpered, focusing on her breathing and trying to ignore Wesker's fingers at her most sensitive spot. “Please, _please.”_

“Then cum for me, Claire.”

She cried out as she let her orgasm wash over her. Wesker covered her mouth with his hand and she could smell her pussy on his glove. He bottomed out inside of her, feeling her cervix brush against the tip of his cock. He let out a low growl as he came, buried deep inside of her. Claiming Chris's little sister as his own. He stilled inside of her for a moment, letting his cock spasm before slowly drawing away.

Claire's legs shook and she grasped onto the desk for stability. She focused on breathing for a moment before fumbling for her underwear.

“H-how'd you know I was on the pill?” She mumbled, finding her panties and pulling them up. She could already feel Wesker's essence dripping out.

Wesker sneered, tucking himself back inside his boxers and zipping his slacks up. “I didn't.”

She shuddered lightly, pulling her jeans back up over her waist and buttoning them. Wesker smacked her backside one last time.

“Get back to the party. Your brother will be wondering where you've gone.”

She felt her face flush again and she nodded, hurrying out of the S.T.A.R.S office. The Captain watched the door close behind her and pulled a small vial from his pocket. The lettering read, “P30” and below that “warning: experimental”. He opened his desk and tossed it inside along with a couple of undeveloped rolls of film. He readjusted his sunglasses and smirked to himself before leaving the office to join the rest of the party.

 


	2. pictures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys I'm kind of horrified that it's been like six months since I've written anything. I have tried a couple of times, but really RE2 revitalized me and now all I want is RE shit in my life again. So here's #2 on my kink bingo card, pictures!
> 
> ClairexLeon, solo Leon. 1998, set sometime between RE2 and CVX. I don't really think there's any warnings here, it's pretty vanilla.

pictures.

 

In the days after Raccoon City, the activity that Leon looked forward to the most was checking his email. It had started innocently enough, Claire would email Leon nightly with short messages; where she was bunking, the leads she had on her brother, or information she'd heard spoken in hushed tones about an Umbrella facility in Paris. It put Leon's mind at ease to know she was safe somewhere, even if only momentarily. He would write back with what he could share about his government training, how Sherry was doing, or news about Umbrella stateside.

He worked it into his evening ritual, sitting down at his computer with a cold beer after a hot shower. He gave all of his attention to his email program, cleaning out the emails that were of no importance, answering the ones that were, and leaving Claire's for last.

Tonight, he noticed, the email was extra short and sweet, with three attachments at the bottom.

_“Hey. I miss you. I can't stop thinking about you. xoxo Claire”_

He furrowed his brow lightly, cursor hovering over the attachment box. Was it a possibility this email wasn't meant for him? She had never signed off on her emails like that before. He took a big swallow of his beer and clicked the first box. He watched the numbers slowly increase until the box said 'downloaded.' He repeated the process until all three .jpgs were downloaded. He wet his lips and right clicked on the first file.

Claire looked back at him from a dimly lit, low resolution picture. She looked thinner than the last time he saw her, even though it had only been weeks ago. He could see her hip bones clearly through her black panties. She posed for him in a mirror in what looked to be a small, run down hotel room. The small digital camera she used was reflected in the mirror. Despite the lack of lighting in the room, he could clearly see her rosy nipples through the thin lace of her bra in the photograph.

His pants felt tighter and his palms were slick. He breathed out, surprising himself when it sounded shaky. It wasn't that he hadn't had these thoughts about Claire, but he'd kept them to himself. It wasn't shocking that they had feelings for each other, after everything that happened in Raccoon City, but it still surprised him to receive these intimate pictures from her. He took another swig of his beer, clicking to open the second picture.

Claire had lost the bra in the second picture, letting her perky breasts free. They were round, tipped with the most beautiful rose peaks, and Leon wanted to cup them gently. Her skin was pale and looked perfect in the reflection of the mirror. Leon found himself focusing on the curve of her waist and thighs almost more so than her breasts. She was toned and fit, although if he were being honest he was a bit worried if she was getting enough to eat. He pushed the thought from his mind and downed the rest of his drink.

He found his hand resting on the outside of his black sweats, pressing against his throbbing erection. He was hot and his brain was fuzzy, trying to focus on the message in front of him. What was the next picture going to be? He wanted to see every inch of her creamy body.

The last picture loaded and popped up on screen, causing Leon to let out an audible “Wow.”

Claire sat carefully on her knees, her legs spread and her black panties discarded. She had a beautiful red bush at the junction between her thighs, with a glistening slit just below. She pinched her nipple with her free hand, and bit her lower lip lightly.

“Jesus Christ, Claire.” Leon groaned lightly, letting his hands dip below his sweats. He stroked himself lightly, imagining himself between her parted thighs, tasting every part of her most intimate areas. He could practically taste her on his tongue, sweet and musky. He could almost hear her groaning, feel her wrapping her long, smooth legs around him and pulling him close.

He came with a loud groan, followed by a shudder at the image of him buried deep inside of her, kissing her mouth hard. He leaned his head back, breathing hard momentarily as his seed cooled on his hand. He felt his face get a bit hot and he cleared his throat, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over him. Even though Claire had been the one to send him the pictures, he still felt a level of discomfort for getting so worked up over them.

Leon cleaned himself up, and changed into a fresh pair of sweats. He sat back down at his computer to compose a reply with a second cold beer, detailing exactly what he would do to the younger woman the next time he saw her, and promising to get a digital camera of his own.

 


	3. teasing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> holy shit y'all, 2 chapters in one night!?! This is dedicated to my good friend Victor who is a huge fan of BirkinxWesker and picked the next square on my kink bingo card, which was teasing.
> 
> This is set like, probably early 90's? Very late 80's or early 90's, while the T-Virus was still in development.
> 
> This is WeskerxBirkin, so it's hella gay. It's got some light dominant/submissive stuff, restraints, cheating, rough, unprotected sex.
> 
> I'm asking for pairings and bingo card squares on twitter, you can follow me, I'm @Burnside_Fan (b/c of course I am) so feel free to follow and interact with me plz. I am not very cool. I talk a lot about RE.

teasing.

 

Birkin whimpered quietly, the cool air of the lab wrapping around his erect cock. It could have been refreshing... if he wasn't maddeningly horny. His black slacks had been removed and discarded, his stark white briefs tight around his ankles. His hands were restrained behind his back, tied artfully to his desk chair with his tie.

Wesker smirked, leaning back on the desk behind him. He let his eyes travel from Birkin's flushed face to his cock. There was a thick drop of precum already beading at the very top. He leaned forward and wiped it away with his thumb, the soft leather from his gloves making the younger scientist gasp and shudder in response. He pressed the digit to Birkin's lips.

“Taste.” He commanded, his voice low and silky, causing Birkin's cock to twitch in response.

Birkin opened his mouth to protest, but groaned when the S.T.A.R.S Captain's thumb plunged into his mouth and smeared the precum on his tongue. He felt his face get even hotter as he tasted himself.

“A-ahh~, Albert, _Please._ ”

There was a distant beep on the other side of the laboratory and Wesker stood up, wiping his hand on his slacks. He walked away to tend to the centrifuge, taking out the first samples of the Tyrant Virus for the day and replacing them with a second round. He closed the machine and set it for fifteen minutes before crossing over to the other side of the room and placing the first batch into the fridge to cool. Birkin watched him from his seat with wide eyes as the older man made notes on his clipboard.

“Albert...”

“Be _patient_ , William.” He smirked, looking over the rim of his sunglasses at his captive toy. “You know this research is important, so I don't want you to complain. Do you understand?” He closed the door on the fridge before making his way back to his co-researcher.

He smirked as he sat on a spare rolling stool, carefully positioning himself directly in front of William. He adored how flustered William got when he was teased. He was like an impatient teenager.

“The longer you leave me like this, the higher likelihood that Annette walks in... catches both of us in this... _compromising_ situation, Al...” His breathing was uneven. “I recommend you get this over with to save us both the embarrassment.”

Wesker smirked. “Don't worry your pretty little head about your wife. I saw to it that she will be busy for quite a while.”

Birkin's eyes studied Wesker's face, trying to come up with another excuse and failing. “...I'll do whatever you want, Al, please.”

“You'll do whatever I want, regardless, William.” He twisted his fingers into the other man's locks, grabbing a fistful and pulling his head back as he kissed him, hard. His tongue delved into William's mouth, claiming it again as his own. He let his hand wrap around Birkin's exposed member, squeezing and touching.

William gasped in response, his hips bucking forward immediately as the warmth and softness of Albert's leather glove enveloped him. It was a stark difference from the air conditioned room, and everything that he'd wanted since he got restrained.

Albert sneered as he broke the kiss, biting the other man's lower lip hard enough to draw blood as he pulled away. Birkin yelped, simultaneously thrusting his hips into his superior's fist. The friction was wonderful, and Birkin was certain that Wesker only wore those gloves because it drove him crazy. He loved the way the buttery leather felt on his bare skin and just the sight of them could get him worked up.

The centrifuge beeped again as it slowed to a stop and Wesker drew away to prep the next batch of the virus. William's cock ached and he watched silently with his brow creased as the man walked away from him. He strained against his restraints, trying to work the knot free from his silk tie. He _was_ thankful that the material was soft if he were to be honest to himself, as Wesker had used rougher materials on purpose before. (There was no denying that Wesker had a sadistic streak, and there no denying that part of Birkin loved it.)

“Are you done protesting, dearheart?” Wesker asked as he resumed his seat on the stool, parting Birkin's legs lightly with his hand. “Are you ready to be obedient?” He brushed the back of his knuckles against the underside of the scientist's cock, causing him to curl his toes and gasp in response.

“Y-yes.”

“Yes? You don't seem so sure of yourself.”

“Yes... sir.” He breathed out slowly, his cock twitching again. “Please, just stop teasing me, Al...”

Wesker traced his fingers from the base to the tip and back down, slowly, before grasping him in his palm again and stroking him slowly. There was a small, wet spot on his own slacks that was slowly growing as his cock strained against their cotton prison. He leaned back, much to Birkin's dismay, and unzipped his trousers. His hand disappeared into his sleek black boxers momentarily, withdrawing his own erection.

Birkin licked his lips absently, his gaze falling on Wesker's lap. It was _thick_ and always made him visibly excited. Wesker sneered, standing.

“Look at what you did to me, _dearheart_.” He pressed his cock against Birkin's cheek, smearing the pre-cum on his smooth skin. Birkin's cock twitched in response to the pet name, and then again once he felt the wetness from the tip cool on his skin. There was something about the way he spoke when he was like this that turned William to putty. “I'm so hard it hurts. Do you like getting me worked up like this?”

Birkin nodded, swallowing a whimper. It drove him wild when Wesker was rock hard.

“Open.” He ordered, and Birkin obeyed. He parted his lips, looking up at the older man with a glazed look over his face. Wesker twisted his fingers into the scientist's hair again, holding him still as he plunged into his throat. Birkin spluttered and gasped before relaxing his throat. He blinked away tears, feeling one roll down his cheek.

“You look so pretty when you're choking on my cock, William.” He purred, releasing him after a moment and allowing him to breathe. He sneered and wiped the tip of his saliva covered cock on Birkin's cheek.

“God, would you just fuck me already!?” He groaned, arching his back. “I can't _take it anymore,_ Al!”

Wesker leaned forward and untied the restraints in one pull, causing Birkin to sigh with relief. He stretched his arms for the first time in what felt like eternity. They were a bit sore from being stuck in one position for such a long time. He flexed, feeling the blood return to his extremities.

“Up.” He gestured to the nearby desk. Birkin rose on shaky legs and took a few steps over, hoisting himself up onto the wooden surface. Wesker bent down, fishing around in one of the drawers for the small bottle of lube that was kept there. He stroked himself a couple of times before coating his length in the silicone, readying himself at Birkin's hole. He kissed the other man hard to muffle his whimpers as he sheathed himself inside in one swift movement.

William arched his back, whimpering into Albert's mouth as he accommodated his superior's girth. Tears burned his eyes for a second until the pain was replaced by pleasure, Wesker's gloved hand wrapping around his cock again. His whimpers melted to moans. He felt liable to cum already, the friction between them turning his brain to a delicious mush.

“I'm going to fill your tight little hole up,” Wesker growled, lips pressed to the other man's ear. “I'm going to breed you deep, and leave it to drip out until you go home and shower tonight... until you get in bed with your wife,”

Birkin gasped, digging his short, clean nails into the skin on Wesker's back. The hard length inside of him brushed against that sweet spot of bundled nerves, once, twice, and a third time before it sent him over the edge. He spasmed and came, wrapping his legs around Wesker's waist, keeping him sheathed deep inside momentarily.

Wesker let out a low laugh. “If you think that means I'm done, dearheart, you're mistaken.” He smirked, reaching down and giving his bottom's nipple a rough twist. He bucked into him, brushing against his prostate again and making Birkin cry out again. He was overstimulated and it _hurt_ and he loved it. His cock twitched and he arched his back, screwing his eyes shut as his boss fucked him into the table. Just when he thought he couldn't take it anymore, Wesker's cock pulsated inside of him as he emptied his seed while sheathed to the hilt within him.

“F-fuck, ah, I didn't think you were _serious!_ ” Birkin gasped, staring up at him with a deepening blush across his cheeks. He felt _filthy_ and knew Wesker wouldn't let him forget this.

Wesker sneered, readjusting his sunglasses on the bridge of his nose. His forehead glistened lightly with a thin layer of sweat. “You better not clean up until you go home.” He delivered a single _smack_ against the younger man's bare backside before drawing away and wiping himself on Birkin's discarded briefs. He tucked his flagging erection away and zipped his slacks back up.

“Now if you'll excuse me, dearheart, I have a deadline I have to meet.”

Birkin rose on shaking legs and fumbled for his underwear. He pulled it on over shaking legs, watching Wesker unlock the door from the keypad and saunter out of the room. He heard his footsteps turn softer until they faded away.

 


	4. interrogation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter warnings: dubious consent, rough, pain play, electricity play, torture, gay sex, cheating.
> 
> this took me a long time to write, and was written for Deven. Piers is kind of a pain slut. I swear I'm going to stop writing Wesker fucking whoever he wants hahaha

interrogation.   
  
Piers closed and locked the heavy door behind him, making sure his pistol was safely in it's shoulder holster. He touched his taser clipped to his belt next. These measures weren't standard – but the man contained in this room wasn't exactly standard, either. He rolled his sleeves up, cuffing them just below his elbow. Even in the dim light the scars on his right arm caught the light, smooth patches that told of his dedication to fighting Bioterrorism.

The man across from him sneered, his muscular arms cuffed behind him to the steel chair. He was familiar, though Piers had only seen him in dossiers, with the exception of a few old pictures of Chris and the rest of the S.T.A.R.S team. He hadn't aged a day since the pictures of him from the late 90's, and Piers would recognize him anywhere. The room was filled with the scent of his cologne, spicy and expensive.

There was a cup of room temperature coffee, untouched, on the table in front of him. There were pages from the BSAA's file on Wesker spread out over the metal table, detailing his life, research and ultimately, death. “Albert Wesker.”

The man sneered, his red eyes flashing from his seated position. “I'm afraid I don't know who you are.”

“That's not important. I work for the BSAA. ” Piers flicked on the fluorescent desk lamp, swiveling the head so that it shined directly in Wesker's face. “It was formed to combat bad guys like you.”

“I feel honored.”

“The official word is that you died in Kijuju in 2009.”

“Is that so?” An even wider sneer.

“The official reports detail a volcano. And yet, here you are.” Piers leaned forward, resting his palms flat against the table. Even after everything Piers had been through, the color of Wesker's eyes made his blood run cold. It was like making eye contact with a wild animal. “How did you do it?”

Wesker let out a low laugh. Piers swallowed hard. “Do I make you uncomfortable, dearheart?”

“Don't flatter yourself. And I'm the one that asks the questions. You give me answers. Understand?” He unclipped his taser from his belt, dropping it onto the table with a heavy clang. “We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. Which do you want, Wesker?”

“If you think you're being intimidating, you're mistaken. Chris was too busy to be here himself? I don't need some lowly officer threatening me with some pathetic taser. It's laughable, really.”

There was a crunching noise and before Piers could blink, he was pressed against the wall with Wesker's hand clasped tightly around his throat. He tried to reach for his pistol but felt the cold steel pressed up against his temple. Everything went black and the last thing he saw was Wesker's amber eyes.

When he came to, Wesker was towering over him. His height on file was inconsistent between six feet and six foot three, but he seemed impossibly tall standing over him now.

“You were foolish enough to believe a pair of handcuffs could keep me contained?”

Piers growled lightly. His head throbbed and he was still trying to collect himself. He felt his stomach drop when he realized he was unarmed; both his gun and his taser sat flat on the table. He could almost hear Chris's voice in his ears telling him to always have a back-up.

Wesker's file had been stacked neatly on the corner, no doubt after he'd read all of the information they had on him. Piers didn't know how long he was out for. He could already feel the bruises forming on his throat. His senses felt dull as though he were underwater.

“Fuck you.” He finally spluttered, eyes finally coming to a focus in the dimly lit room. “You're on the BSAA campus. You won't get away with this.”   
“Now, now, dearheart. I won't kill you if you cooperate with me. It's my turn to ask the questions. Where is Chris Redfield?”

“H-how am I supposed to know that?” He knew Wesker had no qualms disposing of anyone he felt wasn't of use to him. He didn't know which was worse, Wesker finding out the whereabouts of his partner, or Chris coming home to Piers being shot dead in the BSAA's own facility.

“Don't play coy with me.” He took the gun off of the table and chambered a bullet, pointing it lazily at Piers. “I have my ways to get this information out of you.” Piers wet his lips.

“I don't negotiate with terrorists.”

Wesker laughed. “I see that's still a popular word.”

“You are a terrorist.” Piers spat. “You kill people.”

“I kill those who are unworthy and not useful. Are you going to make yourself useful for me or am I going to put you out of your misery and find your dear Chris on my own?” Another flash of his perfect teeth and Piers's blood ran cold. It was a possibility that he could die here today, and Wesker would still find Chris. The truth was, he didn't even know his partner's exact location, just that he was at a BSAA base somewhere owned by the Eastern European division.   
“Go fuck yourself, Wesker. You're not a terrorist, you're a comic book villain. _”_

“My, my, such vitriol.” He laughed, exchanging the loaded pistol in favor of the taser. He flipped the safety off, pressing the small button on the side. It sparked to life, causing Piers to push his chair back as much as he could muster.

He'd been hit with a stun gun only once before, during basic training. The Drill Sargent wanted everyone to understand the capacity and power of the taser as a non-lethal way to incapacitate someone when needed. Piers remembered how much it hurt, and he grimaced at the thought. By now, after his run-in with the enhanced C-Virus, he'd had a whole different introduction to electricity. The way that coursed through his body was unlike any other pain he'd felt before. Nothing had since compared, not even the surgical reconstruction of the right side of his body or subsequent healing and physical therapy.

He wondered briefly if the c-virus dormant in his system would have any effect on the electricity from a stun gun. “You do a very good job of hiding your fear, dearheart.” Wesker leaned forward, his lips brushing lightly against Piers's ear as he spoke. “But I can smell it on you and it is exquisite.”

Something solid brushed against Piers's elbow and he jerked his head towards Wesker to see what it was. He found himself practically face to face with Wesker's leather clad crotch, which did nothing to conceal the outline of his half-hard cock.

“Jesus.” Piers groaned. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Of course Albert Wesker, the man who considered himself to be a god, was half erect with one of his enemies restrained. Piers wished he could be surprised, but mostly he was just deeply uncomfortable “What? One cannot deny the beauty of having you tied up and ready for the taking like this. If I'm being honest, I like that you've got some fight in you.” He discharged the taser again into the air for a second before laughing. Piers tensed, his breath hitching in his throat. “It makes this a lot more fun. I'm a fan of the hard way, you know, dearheart.” With emphasis on the pet name, he jabbed the prongs into Piers's muscular thigh and discharged the taser for three seconds.

Piers gasped, tensing immediately as the electricity caused his muscles to spasm. He strained against his cuffs, the metal digging into his wrists. He struggled to breathe and black spots dotted th edge of his vision. When Wesker drew the weapon away, the younger man gasped and shuddered. “My, my, it almost looked like you...enjoyed that. Tell me, darling, did you?”

Wesker sneered, twisting his fingers into the short hairs at the back of Piers's head and jerking his head back to peer into his eyes.

“Fuck you.” He growled. He felt dizzy, lightheaded – liable to pass out again.

“Get your hands off of me.”

Wesker grinned. His teeth practically glowed in the dim light. “So feisty. I see why Chris claimed you.” Piers swallowed hard. How did he know that? Chris and himself weren't out to anyone in the BSAA except for a couple of Chris's superiors. He started to wonder if this had all been a ruse, that Wesker had allowed himself to get captured on purpose, and lured him into a false sense of security until he was ready to attack. He cursed himself silently for his naivety and hoped it wouldn't mean his end.

“Speaking of your dear Chris Redfield, where is he? If you prefer, I can abduct his quite attractive little sister...” He examined the settings on the pain inducing weapon, turning it up in intensity. He discharged it into the air again as a warning. “You know, I've always found her incredibly alluring.”

“Leave her out of this. I swear to god, if Chris finds out that you're even thinking about getting to Claire--”

“What, he'll kill me?” Wesker laughed and hit him with another short jolt of electricity. “Come on, dearheart. Be realistic here. Do you think it will be that easy to get rid of me?” He felt Wesker's erection – at full mast now – brush against him again and he shuddered.

The electricity mixed with the endorphins from the pain was making his brain fuzzy and he couldn't focus. He had a split second of an image of Wesker's hard cock in his mouth and his eyes widened. He shook his head to banish the thought, screwing his eyes shut and silently pleading with himself to stay strong.

“I have yet to study the c-virus.” Wesker mused aloud, leaning in close to Piers, studying the small scars that marred his otherwise perfect skin. If he got close enough, he could see exactly where skin was grafted around his eye. “Does it make you feel powerful?” A soft smirk.

“....I'm not like you.” Piers bared his teeth. The tyrant's breath was hot on his face. He was undeniably intoxicating. All at once he understood Chris's past attraction to his former boss. If he were still aging, Wesker would be nearing his sixties – but he still had the body of a man in his thirties. He was toned, tight and muscular. His black leather ensemble fit incredibly well and left nothing to the imagination.

Another jolt of electricity spread through his body as the sharp metal prongs found their way back into his thigh. Tears formed at the corners of his eyes as his muscles seized and spasmed. He struggled to breathe and gulped greedy breaths once the electricity stopped. He slumped forward.

“Strong like me?” Wesker sneered. “Willing to do anything to get what you want?”

Piers tried to find the strength to speak, but he could only muster a sigh. Every inch of his body ached. He glared up at Wesker the best he could, trying to steady his breathing.

“That's a good boy.” The older man ran his gloved hand slowly through Piers's perfectly coiffed hair. His fingers brushed against his cheek next, dropping down to the nape of his neck. The younger man let out a barely audible whimper, finding himself leaning into the softness of Wesker's palm. It was a welcome respite from the searing pain of the electricity. “It's a shame that my former subordinate has laid claim to you. You have the makings of an obedient slave.”

“I'll never be obedient to you.” He growled, but part of him knew that he was nearing his breaking point. His muscles ached and it was hard to concentrate. His eyes kept drifting back to Wesker's hard-on, thinly veiled behind his slick black leather pants.

“I appreciate your spirit...” He kneeled, fingers tracing the curve of Piers's ear. “But maybe if you're a good little toy for me, you'll get out of here unscathed.... I can already see you're aching for me.”

Piers was made suddenly aware of his own erection as the back of Wesker's other hand brushed against it. He felt his face get hot, though he wasn't sure if it was from the anger that washed over him, the embarrassment that the pain had turned him on, or the endorphins rushing through his system. He strained against his bonds, his chin resting on his chest for a moment as he tried to catch his breath.

“Will you be a good boy if I take the handcuffs off?”

After a moment of silence, piers nodded slowly. “....yes.”   
Wesker smirked. He fished the small iron key out of his pocket and released the metal cuffs that kept Piers's hands behind his back. The younger man stretched and rubbed his wrists as the blood returned to his arms. He felt stiff – in more ways than one – and couldn't wait to stretch.

“You know you have an exquisite body.” Wesker murmured, his hand finding it's way up the front of Piers's tight, black shirt. His fingers stroked lightly against Piers's abs, causing the younger man to shudder and sigh. Every part of his conscience and common sense was screaming at him to run, to get out and get help, to find one of his colleagues and subdue the older man; but, he didn't move. He relaxed into the older man's touch.

Wesker's fingers brushed against one of his hardened nipples, eliciting a sharp gasp. His cock throbbed and his face burned. He ached for Wesker's touch and fumed that his partner's ex-Captain was making him feel this way.

The blonde sneered and pressed the pad of his thumb against Piers's full lips. “I do hope Chris gets his fill of this beautiful mouth.”

Piers parted his lips to retort, but was quickly silenced as a thumb was forced into his mouth. The grain of the leather was smooth against his tongue. He swallowed around it, feeling his cock twitch. Part of him prayed that Wesker was just toying with him while the other knew he couldn't take the teasing much longer. Wesker's digit was retracted with a small _pop._

Suddenly there was pressure and friction against his erection and he felt his hips roll towards the sensation immediately. “P-please.” It was so quiet he was unsure he actually vocalized anything.

“Please?” Wesker sneered, grabbing Piers's jaw roughly. “Please what?”

The younger man screwed his eyes shut. “Fuck me.”

“Good boy.” The tyrant kissed Piers hard. His tongue delved past his full lips and into the velvet softness that was his mouth. The younger man returned the kiss with an urgency that he'd never felt before. He plunged his hand into his own pants, wrapping a hand around his hard cock and stroking desperately.

“Stop.” Wesker growled into his ear, his hand tightening around Piers's throat. “I'm going to fuck you so hard that you will never be able to look at Chris the same way.”

Piers swallowed hard, struggling to draw in a breath. A soft whimper escaped his throat and tears formed at the corners of his eyes. He wanted to object, but the words didn't come.

He rose on shaking legs as Wesker guided him to the metal table in the center of the room. He kept a tight grip on Piers as he forced his back to the cold steel. He made quick work of the soldier's fatigues and underwear (which had a very sizable wet spot, Wesker noticed) and admired as his cock sprung forward at full mast. Piers looked embarrassed and relieved all at once as Wesker gripped it in his palm, letting the soft leather envelop him. He rolled his hips and whimpered.

“Please.” He swallowed hard. “I can't take it anymore.”

Wesker laughed, tracing one of the inflamed red patches from the taser. Piers sucked a sharp breath of air through his teeth as a ripple of pain shot through his leg. “Oh, did that hurt, dearheart?”

Piers grimaced, but said nothing as the pain only made his cock ache worse. He watched in a daze as Wesker's hand disappeared into the pocket of his pants. He fished out a small, unlabeled bottle of liquid. He smirked, unclasping his own belt and zipper, allowing his pants to fall to a puddle around his feet. His cock was massive, and rock hard. Piers began to rethink his decision.

The sniper screwed his eyes shut again, trying to block out the idea that Wesker was actually about to fuck him. He bit his lip – hard - when he felt a cold, wet sensation as lube was smeared against his opening. At first it was just a finger, quickly followed by a second as Wesker readied him.

He groaned, leaning his head back and melting into the sensation. It ached a bit as he grew accustomed to the intrusion. Before he found himself entirely comfortable, Wesker had added two more fingers for a total of four. He groaned, arching his back and allowing Wesker to push deeper.

“You like how it feels when I hurt you, don't you, dearheart?” His free hand pressed against one of the tender red spots on his thigh. Piers cried out wordlessly, but Wesker knew exactly what his response meant. He gave his fingers a twist and spread them a bit before withdrawing his hand.

Piers had no time to complain before he felt the tip of Wesker's hard cock slipping past the small crown of muscle. He buried himself inside the much younger man with relish, enjoying watching him grimace as the pain washed over him.

“Fuck,” Piers gasped, digging his well manicured fingernails into Wesker's arm. “You're so fucking big,”

“Bigger than Chris?” He sneered. He already knew the answer. Piers nodded anyway.

“It hurts.” He pushed lightly at Wesker in a half-hearted attempt to get him to pull out. Wesker instead busied himself with stroking Piers's erection. He sighed, relaxing into his touch.

“I know.” Wesker chuckled lightly. The sound set Piers's insides on fire. His muscles tightened around Wesker, giving him the non-verbal consent he needed.

He carefully positioned himself, one of his arms on either of Piers's sides, pinning his knees to either side of his torso. His muscular calves rested against the other man's shoulders. Wesker sunk even deeper inside, causing Piers to cry out.

“Stroke yourself for me.” Wesker growled into the brunette's ear. Piers felt dizzy. “But don't cum until I tell you to.”

Piers groaned softly, blindly wrapping his fingers around his achingly hard cock. There was a bead of pre-cum at the tip already. He smeared it against the head of his cock with the pad of his thumb as he jerked himself slowly in time with Wesker's thrusts. He kept his eyes shut, trying to picture Chris instead of the blonde. He tried to visualize Chris's calloused hands, the scratch of his 5'o clock shadow, the ache of his thick cock and the spicy sweet smell of his expensive cologne – his eyes opened and he was met again with Wesker's piercing gaze.

“That's a good boy,” He sneered as Piers's breath came in shallow pants. He could tell he was getting close, but planned to draw this out as long as he could for the hell of it. “I want you to remember who fucked you like Chris couldn't.”

Piers whined in response, feeling his face flush as he jerked desperately at his cock. He was so hard and Wesker was so deep that every tiny movement _ached._ He couldn't even disagree – Chris hadn't ever made him feel this way.

“Please.” He hardly recognized his voice – breathy and barely above a whisper.

“That's it. I want to hear you beg for release. I want you to tell me how much better I fuck than Chris.”

“Fuck, y'the best I've ever had,” Piers gasped in between thrusts from the older man. “Y'so much better than him. Please.”

“Please what?” Wesker dug his short fingernails into Piers's bare skin. He was nearing his own orgasm, soaking in every second of the soldier's feverish want.

“Please let me cum, Wesker, Sir.” He whimpered. He could feel his heart pounding against his chest. It hurt. He suddenly felt Wesker still while buried inside of him with a groan, followed by a wet heat filling him up. His eyes widened and that was all he needed to push him over the edge. He came with a cry, his seed splattering all over his stomach and chest.

He felt a single sharp smack on his ass. “I didn't give you permission.” Wesker sneered.

“...fuck you.” Piers seethed after a moment as his senses slowly returned to him. The ache for release faded away as he realized exactly what had happened. He felt dizzy and sick to his stomach. Wesker was already tucking himself away and zipping his pants back up.

“I'm sorry, dearheart, but I'm afraid I'm spent.” He laughed.  
Piers felt tears spark at the corners of his eyes. He felt angry, sore and exhausted. He wanted a hot shower and a strong drink, and most of all he wanted Chris.

The door clicked quietly as it was unlocked. Wesker's footsteps faded away as the door closed with a thud behind him.

 


End file.
